Part 41 (2/2)
”I told you what I thought,” he said. ”You were a good halfback until you got busted up. After that . . . ”
He let the sentence dwindle away. Fill in the blanks.
”It was all part of watching out for Dunetown, right? Like you're doing now. Sticking your nose in my business again.”
He looked at me and his lip curled up on one side.
”You found your level, doughboy,” he said.
”Just like you, right?”
He sat for a few beats more and then, without looking at me, he said, ”Harry Raines has a brilliant future. It wouldn't do for his wife to be caught screwin' around with a cop.”
”Or anybody else,” I added.
”There ain't anybody else, doughboy.”
”How about Tony Lukatis?”
His eyes narrowed. ”You sure been busy prying into things that don't matter.”
”That makes two of us. Besides, you brought the subject up,” I said. ”Seems to me everybody's awfully concerned about Harry Raines' future and n.o.body particularly gives a d.a.m.n about his wife.”
”She ain't runnin' for office.”
”That's all it's about, running for office?”
”Look, don't go making a monkey of yourself. She's vulnerable right now. I'd hate to think you were takin' advantage of the situation. ”
”You've got a lot of time invested in him, don't you?” I pressed on.
His eyes continued to twinkle, even in the subdued interior of the limo. He nodded his head sharply.
”Bet your a.s.s I do,” he said.
”I can understand your concern.”
”Hasn't a d.a.m.n thing to do with that. Chief and Doe are family to me. I won't stand by and see either of them hurt.”
”I wasn't planning on it.”
”Anything else would be tomfoolery,” he snapped. The mola.s.ses in his tone had changed to flint.
”Could be there's more to it than that,” I suggested.
”Now what the h.e.l.l's that supposed to mean?”
”How long do you think you can keep this under the table? How long can Harry Raines play dumb?”
”He ain't playing nothin',” the sheriff snapped vehemently. ”If Morehead was doin' his job, none of this would've happened.”
”That's bulls.h.i.+t and you know it. If the Committee had done its job, none of this would've happened.”
At my mention of the Committee, he reared back as if I had slapped him. I went on before he could say anything.
”That makes you as much to blame for what's happening here as anybody. I could understand Donleavy and Seaborn being naive enough to swallow Tagliani's line. You're the sheriff, Mr. Stoney, lord high protector of Dunetown and all its peasants and all its kings. You should have tumbled to them. Why dump it off on somebody else?”
”Doughboy, I'm beginning to think you're suicidal,” he said softly, and with enough menace that it made me pucker a little.
”Okay,” I said, ”I'll put it on the table. How clean is Raines?”
”Don't be silly,” he snapped. ”You think Harry Raines had anything to do with this?”
I said, ”If anybody local sold out to the Taglianis, they're looking down the throat of a RICO case. And that means you, Harry Raines, or anybody else.”
”You have to prove racketeering on the Taglianis,” he said. ”From what I hear, you ain't got doodly-s.h.i.+t on any of them. You're gonna bust out here, just like you did up north. They got you buffaloed, doughboy. Admit it.”
I wanted to tell the crafty old b.a.s.t.a.r.d more, but I decided not to. Instead, I said: ”If he's dirty, he's going to get turned up.”
”I said, don't be silly, boy. Harry Raines is as honest as a Swiss pocket watch. You're dreamin' if you think different. Dangerous dreamin'. Harry, Sam Donleavy, me, we all did our best to keep Dunetown clean. Sounds to me like you may be tryin' to put a size two shoe on a size ten foot.”
”On the other hand, if the shoe fits . . . ”
I let the rest of the sentence dangle.
”Let me put it to you straight, doughboy,” he said with unmistakable authority. ”You stay away from Doe Raines.”
I didn't answer him. We sat and stared through the shadows for several moments. His jaw was flinching.
”This isn't going anywhere,” I said finally. ”I owe you my thanks. I don't know what you're doing out here, but I'm glad you showed up. A little law never hurt anybody.”
”A little law ain't worth a d.a.m.n,” he said. ”Either you got muscle or you got numbers. You didn't have either.”
I asked it suddenly. I wasn't planning on it, it just popped out, kind of like my gun popping out at the dog fights.
”Is this your game, Mr. Stoney?”
He chuckled to himself, a mischievous chuckle, a tsk-tsk chuckle, which made me feel like a wahoo, which is exactly what he wanted.
”I'm gonna give you a little advice, us being in the same game, so to speak. I been at it forty-five years. How about you?”
”Almost ten.”
”People are gonna gamble, doughboy, it's natural. The reason it's natural is because most people are losers and they see themselves as losers and they don't think they'll ever amount to a G.o.dd.a.m.n, so they gamble because in their eyes it's their shot at changin' their luck. So people'll gamble, and a lot of harda.s.s law ain't gonna change it. The same thing can be said of whorin'. Always gonna be whorin' goin' on, doughboy. A man wants to get laid, he's gonna get laid. Now, my job isn't to teach 'em not to gamble or not to get laid; that's a job for a preacher. No, my job is to make sure they don't get hurt bad at it. We all know gamblin' and whorin' can attract some unsavory characters around it, so for that reason I keep my finger on things. I like to know who's doin' what. That way I keep things from gettin' outta line, my folks from gettin' hurt.”
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